


the war is over and we are beginning

by pummelwhack



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pummelwhack/pseuds/pummelwhack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke, Raven, Octavia, and Monty play a drinking game. Lexa catches them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the war is over and we are beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightshifted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(I Wanna Be) Your Left Hand Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308084) by [nightshifted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/nightshifted). 



> _On 2/7/15, at 3:20 AM, Lucy wrote: I really want this war to be over so the OT3 Clarke/Raven/Octavia can start a school and teach little babu grounder kids._  
> 
> Set in some post-MW world where the alliance between Sky People and Grounders was never broken.
> 
> You have to read Lucy's fic to get the jokes.
> 
> Title taken from a Stars song.

The little boy with grey eyes and pink cheeks half-raises his hand twice before decidedly committing to the question he is clearly nervous about asking, and stretches his arm high above his head.

Clarke is just wrapping up a lesson on rudimentary human biology that will lead into a unit on first aid, trauma care, and other life-saving skills similar to the education Clarke received in classes on the Ark and firsthand from her mother. Medical training is a compulsory part of the general curriculum, which Clarke had argued passionately for. The population cannot sustain itself, let alone grow, with the current number of healers at their disposal.

It's been a quiet class, but Clarke suspects that will change once they launch into some of the more gruesome, hands-on elements she has planned for them. This is the first question she's gotten from this group today, so she smiles to encourage him.

"Don't be shy, Cyrus. You can always ask questions."

"Okay..." he says, still a little unsure of himself. "I was wondering about something my brother told me."

"And what was that?"

"He told me that you were one of the hundred," Cyrus continues, "and I was wondering what that meant?"

Ark history is not a compulsory part of the general curriculum, and this was a topic of heavy debate. Ultimately, Clarke, Raven, and Octavia agreed that it's more important for these children to learn only that which directly contributes to their lives here and now, and Ark history does nothing but satisfy curiosity. They are one people now, and they all speak the same languages.

But nine years is not as long as it seems, and every Grounder alive today once thought of Clarke and her people as invaders; she did not expect this mentality to disappear within her generation, and she's not afraid to admit that she comes from a different culture than her students, even if she's now submerged in theirs.

"Nine years ago," she begins, and Cyrus’s face lights up the way all children do when they recognize the beginning of a story, "life on the Ark was failing."

  
  


"Hey, _Ms. Griffin_ ," Raven calls from the open doorway of Clarke's classroom. "Any idea why my kids were asking if they could make wishes on me in class today?"

Clarke bites back a smile as she gathers up her lesson plans. She ended class today after describing Raven's drop, confessing how she mistook the escape pod for a falling star. "You'll recall I teach medical skills, not Old Earth mythology."

"You're full of shit," Raven barks, but there's laughter in her voice. "And it's your turn to host."

"Alright," Clarke relents, smiling in full now as she falls into step with Raven. "But you can't stay long."

Lexa's returning from a three-day training expedition tonight. She has her students, just as Clarke does, but Lexa's schoolhouse is the unbridled forest. Her students learn how to survive and protect, and the unlucky ones provide field training for Clarke's little healers in the making. Lexa always brings back a full report, and Clarke loves finding out which of her students successfully applied the skills they learned in her class.

Clarke can't wait to see her. Especially after a day like today.

She enjoys sharing stories of the Ark, because it means her students care for her enough to inquire about her past, but with all stories dating before the alliance, Finn's memory looms, and nine years plus a new love cannot erase those experiences from her heart.

But Lexa is absolution and new beginnings; together they built a peace between two warring nations that survives to this day, and every person affected by the alliance is better for it. Together they built a powerful partnership, in every sense of the word, from the rubble of lost love, and they are both stronger for it.

"Yeah, yeah," Raven says, slinging her arm across Clarke’s shoulders as they make their way down the hill to the cluster of houses where Clarke and Lexa live. “We’ll be gone in an hour. Two tops.”

  
  


Four hours later and they’re not gone.

“I’ve got one,” Monty says, giggling uncontrollably. “I’ve never had sex with a Grounder.”

A chorus of groans erupts from the group.

“That’s a cheap shot,” Clarke protests.

“You suck,” Octavia says.

Raven takes a drink.

“What?” Clarke sputters “Who?”

“Who _hasn’t_ she slept with, is the better question,” Octavia says, grinning viciously.

Raven throws her empty cup at Octavia, who—even in her drunkenness—easily ducks the rusty metal projectile. “What the hell do you know?”

“You favor warriors,” Octavia tells her. “Warriors talk. We get bored on long hunts.”

“That’s disgusting,” Clarke says. “You all just gossip about your sexual conquests?”

 _Sexual conquests?_ Monty mouths to Raven, who smirks.

Octavia shrugs. “How is it any different from what we’re doing now?”

“It’s different,” Clarke insists. “We’re friends.” She turns to Raven for support. “Don’t you find that offensive?”

Raven shrugs. “It’s kind of flattering.”

“I don’t understand any of you,” Clarke says, and takes her damn drink.

The bottle of moonshine gets passed around, and cups are refilled.

“I’ve never had sex in a lake,” Raven says, apropos of nothing. “Grounders seem to have a thing for it, but I've never let them talk me into it. Who knows what's swimming around in that water.”

“I'm with you,” Monty agrees with a horrified shiver. “Remember that eel that almost ate Octavia?”

Octavia takes her drink without any fuss.

Clarke waits a beat and tries to take hers without notice.

“ _What_?” Raven barks, laughing. “You can’t even swim!”

“That wasn’t really an issue,” Clarke admits, and doesn’t know if it’s alcohol or embarrassment that’s making her face burn.

“We probably shouldn’t know these things about the Commander,” Monty says, but he’s grinning.

“That’s the only reason we play this game,” Octavia says.

It’s Clarke’s turn to throw her cup, which Octavia once again manages to avoid.

Lexa, however, plucks it deftly from the air, and Clarke nearly jumps out of her skin.

“You’re home,” she says dumbly, with the sudden, terrifying realization that she has no idea how long Lexa’s been standing there. 

“Is this cause for concern?” Lexa asks, very clearly aware of the situation at hand. Clarke would be nervous if it weren’t for the smile Lexa has tucked into one corner of her mouth, saving for when they can be alone.

“Everybody leave,” Clarke orders the group, and she’s grateful they know her well enough to comply without any protest. Octavia touches Clarke’s shoulder in parting as she slips away, and Raven slaps her on the back, shit-eating grin tossed over her shoulder. She slings an arm around Monty’s neck and their laughter can be heard long after they’ve left.

“You’re home,” Clarke echoes, this time with all the thrill and affection it deserves.

Lexa twists her lips, eyes shining with amusement.

“And I’m…totally busted,” Clarke finishes.

Lexa’s mouth curves somewhere between a grin and a smirk, and that’s all Clarke needs to know that Lexa’s not angry with her.

Their bodies clash clumsily; Lexa’s armor prevents Clarke from getting as close as she wants, but their mouths find each other in the chaos and cling, cleave to each other, like even a breath is too much parting after three days of separation. Warmth seeps into the fractures left by years of war and loss, spaces no one else can fill; there was a time when Clarke could go weeks without seeing Lexa but it seems impossible now with their hearts and their lives tangled so intimately together.

Breaking apart is a burden, but Clarke wants to drink in Lexa’s face, wants to smudge the war paint with her fingers and drown in Lexa’s piercing stare. Lexa waits a beat before opening her eyes after the kiss ends, and Clarke feels dizzy in love.

“You’re later than I expected,” Clarke says, tender and without accusation.

Lexa’s mouth crooks, her eyes warm. “Clearly.” She traces the edge of Clarke’s hairline, drags her hand through wild yellow curls—pushing them away from Clarke’s face. “Addock sustained injury during stealth training. I carried him to the nearest healer and waited for treatment so he could come home with the rest of us.”

Addock’s sister is in Clarke’s class. Her brow creases with worry. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s with his mother and sister.” Lexa smoothes the wrinkles away with her thumb, then kisses Clarke’s forehead, unbearably sweet. “Your little Everly patched him up admirably.”

Everly is one of Clarke’s brightest, Lexa knows, because Clarke talks of her constantly. Clarke cleared her for field training a bit earlier than everyone else in Everly’s class, making her the youngest to join one of Lexa’s training expeditions at the tender age of eleven. Lexa rarely works with pupils younger than fourteen, but she made an exception for Clarke—as she so often does.

“How did she do in the forest?” Clarke wonders, looping her arms around Lexa’s waist to keep her close as they speak.

“Nightfall frightened her, though she remained brave, so I let her sleep by my side and told her a story of us to calm her. The second night was better.”

Clarke grins, heart swollen with affection for Lexa’s tenderness towards children—especially the ones Clarke favors. “What story did you tell her?”

“When we fought the monstrous bird,” Lexa says, a playful twinkle in her eyes. “Or should I say when I _saved_ you from the bird, and fell off the cliff.”

“And then I saved _you_ from the river,” Clarke reminds her, as if she needs to. Lexa smiles, slight but with genuine emotion, and drops a hot, lingering kiss on Clarke’s lips. They’ve been happy together long enough to find amusement in the events that forced Lexa to confess her feelings for Clarke—beaten down by nature, a stone’s throw from death, and still the words could not have been harder to say.

“How did Addock get injured during stealth training, anyway?”

“He fell from a tree.”

Clarke laughs, burying her face in Lexa’s shoulder. “I thought Trikru were supposed to be graceful.”

“Perhaps he is one of yours, then,” Lexa suggests lightly. "Is it not in the nature of Skaikru to fall great distances?"

Clarke can’t pinch her through the armor, but she can touch her lips to Lexa’s collarbone, which—really—is more effective than a pinch. Lexa’s sharp, surprised gasp dissolves into a whine and Clarke giggles against her skin, the vibrations making Lexa shiver helplessly.

“Clarke.”

The desperate arousal in her voice isn’t something Clarke’s immune to, and after three days apart, she has no desire to draw this out.

Years of dressing and undressing Lexa of her armor make the task at hand a swift one, and Lexa is down to her undershirt in moments. Clarke pushes her hands beneath it, drags a feverish touch over taut stomach muscles and feels them quiver with excitement. Lexa kisses her with all the passion she brings to the battlefield and it lights a fire in Clarke’s body.

Their shirts are gone before they reach the bedroom.


End file.
